Someone recently asked me what I would tell my younger self if I could go back in time. The following is a complex answer to an incredibly loaded question… Dear me, You’re 10 and grieving for the first time. You loved that cat more than anything and no one told you that death wasn’t something made up in Sunday School. Cry. Cry because in this moment you are learning that life is fragile and beautiful and existential. Cry because right now we are realizing that being vulnerable is not the same as being weak and being transparent is constructive. Cry. Cry because today you construct the first fibers of the…